Bleed Black for aaronlisa
Author/Artist: darkmagic-luvr
Recipient: aaronlisa
Rating: R
Warnings: spoilers for the series, mention of rape, literary freedom
Pairing: Meg/Jo
Summary: In which the Meg demon visits her favorite pet. In which the demon formally known as Jo follows the routine.
Notes: Set after Abandon All Hope. This...doesn't really have much of a plot.
Bleed Black
Hunters always made the best torturers, thought the Meg demon to herself*, her eyes flickering across the backs of many, many broken men, their skins pierced with metal rings to hold up their sagging flesh, so the breakers could do their work. The Meg demon followed the sounds of screaming like a lullaby, her eyes drifting halfway closed to savor the agony. Through the veil of lashes - the sparks of light casting off them and into her eyes blurring her vision - she managed to navigate her way through the bodies and metal until she was standing in front of her very favorite play thing.
|* her, him, the sex didn’t really matter anymore. All that mattered was the name, Meg, maybe just a nickname now, but the shadows still clinging to the rocks of hell - flickering souls that burned when you touched them; some of the first humans to sell themselves for riches and glory - they remembered what that name used to mean.|
There’s a very special place in hell for she demons who take over the bodies of overgrown men and rape unsuspecting blonde‘s in bars, is what the demon formally known as Jo didn’t say when the Meg pressed herself against the blonde’s back, her breath brushing pale strands of hair off her shoulder. Jo swallowed a gag, but let the Meg do as she wished, shivering at the cold…bitter feel of her hands sliding down along the skin of her hips. down, down, d o w n until the Meg’s fingertips were pressed against tender flesh just inside Jo’s leg.
The soul strung up in front of Jo stared through blood shot, pupil blown eyes. Blood drool sliding from her mouth. Jo ignored her duties to the pit and turned her head slightly, feeling a smirk tug against her mouth despite. She couldn’t refuse the Meg, not when she wanted to, not when she didn’t, so the hitch in her breath wasn’t her fault when the Meg slipped her fingers against her core.
It had followed like this ever since the hounds sent Jo to Hell. Meg had been waiting for her, with a cheshire cat impersonation and introduced herself properly as m a s t e r, with a two choice offer. Join in with the suffering, or join in with the suffered. It would have made her mama cry if she knew how easy the Meg managed to pin her to the ground and fuck her into saying yes.
(justyes.)
Jo grunted as the Meg sunk her teeth into the curve of Jo’s shoulder, tearing out a chunk of flesh with her teeth just to have it grow back again. The tension coiling in her stomach sprung apart and Jo whirled around, sliding her hand into the Meg’s hair and crushing their mouths together. It was always the biting that did her in. teeth and tongue and bare skin against more and more and m o r e bare skin, Meg tucked her heel around Jo’s ankle and jerked her off balance, sending her to the ground (interlocking souls, sparking and breathing, sending pain through their bodies every time they moved.) Meg followed Jo’s body steadfast, wicked grin and a smear of blood left behind across her cheek. Jo pressed her elbows to the ground and lifted herself up, running her tongue along Meg’s face, removing herself from the bitch.
The smell of burning flesh ignored because they’re used to it, but the crisscross patterns of electric sliding across their skin can not be and it’s minutes before Jo was crying out in pleasurepain, while Meg growled against her neck and lets her thighs bleed. The later arched against Meg, hair snapping against the ground while the former ran the tip of her nose down Jo’s body, pausing to press a kiss to a hipbone before digging her fingers into spread thighs and dragging Jo to her mouth.
Jo breathed deeply, staring upward and the neverending blackness, allowing Meg to jerk her off while the hiss of their skin filled their ears. Jo ignored the taunting smirk against her thighs and closed her eyes, black against black against spots of colored light that tricked into thinking she was still human. She couldn’t help the hiss from between her teeth or react to the chuckled vibrating through her pussy. She hung on to her orgasm, waiting for her release, but not until the Meg spoke.
She knew the rules.
With an aggravated snort, the Meg curled her fingers inside of Jo, making her convulse in surprise before she huffed and spoke.
“Hunters
But Jo was too gone to hear the words completely. It wasn’t until minutes later, the Meg pressed against the side of her body, one hand still caught between her legs and the jerk of the meat on the rack above them for her to realize what the Meg had said.
“You said hunters. What about the- us?”
The Meg demon smirked against Jo’s neck, against the spot she had bitten off, still a bit raw from being not-quite-healed-yet. “You’re inattention to me is the root of all my dull.” a smirk and then “You people make the very best murders. Hunters are the very best tortures. You’re not about the human race, you’re about survival.” The Meg hummed and stood, stretching her skin and staring down at Jo, ignoring the woman‘s glare. “I’ll be seeing you shortly, Jo.”
She flinched at the name her mother gave her, but picked herself up and turned back to her rack. The black suffocated her and filled her head with her anger, coiling inside her shell until it lashed like a whip, severing skin from muscle and muscle from bone. Meg was still against her, even if she was gone, pressed against her skin and smirking against her hair. The demon formally known as Jo snarled, sinking her hand through the chest in front of her until her screams were downed out by the soul’s.
Her hand dripped blood when she removed it, not hearing the slurping sound as she did, shaking her wrist absently as she stared at the black escape from her soul, just a little more burnt around the edges than she used to be. The Meg’s voice rang in her ears.
Hunters make the best demons.
Recipient: aaronlisa
Rating: R
Warnings: spoilers for the series, mention of rape, literary freedom
Pairing: Meg/Jo
Summary: In which the Meg demon visits her favorite pet. In which the demon formally known as Jo follows the routine.
Notes: Set after Abandon All Hope. This...doesn't really have much of a plot.
Bleed Black
Hunters always made the best torturers, thought the Meg demon to herself*, her eyes flickering across the backs of many, many broken men, their skins pierced with metal rings to hold up their sagging flesh, so the breakers could do their work. The Meg demon followed the sounds of screaming like a lullaby, her eyes drifting halfway closed to savor the agony. Through the veil of lashes - the sparks of light casting off them and into her eyes blurring her vision - she managed to navigate her way through the bodies and metal until she was standing in front of her very favorite play thing.
|* her, him, the sex didn’t really matter anymore. All that mattered was the name, Meg, maybe just a nickname now, but the shadows still clinging to the rocks of hell - flickering souls that burned when you touched them; some of the first humans to sell themselves for riches and glory - they remembered what that name used to mean.|
There’s a very special place in hell for she demons who take over the bodies of overgrown men and rape unsuspecting blonde‘s in bars, is what the demon formally known as Jo didn’t say when the Meg pressed herself against the blonde’s back, her breath brushing pale strands of hair off her shoulder. Jo swallowed a gag, but let the Meg do as she wished, shivering at the cold…bitter feel of her hands sliding down along the skin of her hips. down, down, d o w n until the Meg’s fingertips were pressed against tender flesh just inside Jo’s leg.
The soul strung up in front of Jo stared through blood shot, pupil blown eyes. Blood drool sliding from her mouth. Jo ignored her duties to the pit and turned her head slightly, feeling a smirk tug against her mouth despite. She couldn’t refuse the Meg, not when she wanted to, not when she didn’t, so the hitch in her breath wasn’t her fault when the Meg slipped her fingers against her core.
It had followed like this ever since the hounds sent Jo to Hell. Meg had been waiting for her, with a cheshire cat impersonation and introduced herself properly as m a s t e r, with a two choice offer. Join in with the suffering, or join in with the suffered. It would have made her mama cry if she knew how easy the Meg managed to pin her to the ground and fuck her into saying yes.
(justyes.)
Jo grunted as the Meg sunk her teeth into the curve of Jo’s shoulder, tearing out a chunk of flesh with her teeth just to have it grow back again. The tension coiling in her stomach sprung apart and Jo whirled around, sliding her hand into the Meg’s hair and crushing their mouths together. It was always the biting that did her in. teeth and tongue and bare skin against more and more and m o r e bare skin, Meg tucked her heel around Jo’s ankle and jerked her off balance, sending her to the ground (interlocking souls, sparking and breathing, sending pain through their bodies every time they moved.) Meg followed Jo’s body steadfast, wicked grin and a smear of blood left behind across her cheek. Jo pressed her elbows to the ground and lifted herself up, running her tongue along Meg’s face, removing herself from the bitch.
The smell of burning flesh ignored because they’re used to it, but the crisscross patterns of electric sliding across their skin can not be and it’s minutes before Jo was crying out in pleasurepain, while Meg growled against her neck and lets her thighs bleed. The later arched against Meg, hair snapping against the ground while the former ran the tip of her nose down Jo’s body, pausing to press a kiss to a hipbone before digging her fingers into spread thighs and dragging Jo to her mouth.
Jo breathed deeply, staring upward and the neverending blackness, allowing Meg to jerk her off while the hiss of their skin filled their ears. Jo ignored the taunting smirk against her thighs and closed her eyes, black against black against spots of colored light that tricked into thinking she was still human. She couldn’t help the hiss from between her teeth or react to the chuckled vibrating through her pussy. She hung on to her orgasm, waiting for her release, but not until the Meg spoke.
She knew the rules.
With an aggravated snort, the Meg curled her fingers inside of Jo, making her convulse in surprise before she huffed and spoke.
“Hunters
But Jo was too gone to hear the words completely. It wasn’t until minutes later, the Meg pressed against the side of her body, one hand still caught between her legs and the jerk of the meat on the rack above them for her to realize what the Meg had said.
“You said hunters. What about the- us?”
The Meg demon smirked against Jo’s neck, against the spot she had bitten off, still a bit raw from being not-quite-healed-yet. “You’re inattention to me is the root of all my dull.” a smirk and then “You people make the very best murders. Hunters are the very best tortures. You’re not about the human race, you’re about survival.” The Meg hummed and stood, stretching her skin and staring down at Jo, ignoring the woman‘s glare. “I’ll be seeing you shortly, Jo.”
She flinched at the name her mother gave her, but picked herself up and turned back to her rack. The black suffocated her and filled her head with her anger, coiling inside her shell until it lashed like a whip, severing skin from muscle and muscle from bone. Meg was still against her, even if she was gone, pressed against her skin and smirking against her hair. The demon formally known as Jo snarled, sinking her hand through the chest in front of her until her screams were downed out by the soul’s.
Her hand dripped blood when she removed it, not hearing the slurping sound as she did, shaking her wrist absently as she stared at the black escape from her soul, just a little more burnt around the edges than she used to be. The Meg’s voice rang in her ears.
Hunters make the best demons.